The fat people, loaded with punches a la Sancho, had been wiping their
foreheads with their handkerchiefs, for the last quarter of an hour,
and began to grow thirsty, and therefore halted beside a clear spring.
Certain retired soldiers complained of the corns which tortured them,
and spoke of Austerlitz, and of their tight boots.
At the second halt, certain men of the world whispered together:
"But this prophet is a fool."
"Have you ever heard him?"
"I? I came from sheer curiosity."
"And I because I saw the fellow had a large following." (The last man
who spoke was a fashionable.)
"He is a mere charlatan."
The prophet kept marching on. But when he reached the plateau, from
which a wide horizon spread before him, he turned back, and saw no one
but a poor Israelite, to whom he might have said as the Prince de
Ligne to the wretched little bandy-legged drummer boy, whom he found
on the spot where he expected to see a whole garrison awaiting him:
"Well, my readers, it seems that you have dwindled down to one."
Thou man of God who has followed me so far--I hope that a short
recapitulation will not terrify thee, and I have traveled on under the
impression that thou, like me, hast kept saying to thyself, "Where the
deuce are we going?"
Well, well, this is the place and the time to ask you, respected
reader, what your opinion is with regard to the renewal of the tobacco
monopoly, and what you think of the exorbitant taxes on wines, on the
right to carry firearms, on gaming, on lotteries, on playing cards, on
brandy, on soap, cotton, silks, etc.
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